It is not that love is blind. It is that love sees with a painter's eye, finding the essence that renders all else background.

A good marriage is each for the other and two against the world.

One's dream is defeated not by unsolvable problems, but by all the more-or-less satisfactory solutions that kill it forever.

Perchance God will pity a race that sought the better angels of its nature and found only its lesser demons.

It's like this. Father Time keeps pitching the years at us. We swing and miss at a few. We hit a few out of the park. We try not to take any called strikes.

Either way, things are a lot better - either a lot better than they were or a lot better than they're going to be.

Nothing reduces the odds against you like ignoring them.